Swear on your life
by Jervis Tetch Madness
Summary: Escaping Fox River didn't go as Micheal had orginally planned. He couldn't leave his brother behind, but he didn't have any other choice. T-Bag was more than willing to comply with fate, but wasn't expecting the emotional package that it was sealed with. Micheal/T-Bag Slash. M for Later Chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Characters do not belong to me! Implied Yaoi, Lemon, Character death, language, and torment. No like, no read. Enjoy :D**

It wasn't supposed to happen like this, they wern't supposed to respond so quickly.

Micheal Scofield wouldn't have crossed that line if he knew that they were waiting for them, someone slipped up. There wasn't a thing Micheal could do but watch in horror as the gaurds rammed into the room, staring as Abbruzi, Sucre, C-Note, Tweener, and Haywire were brought to thier knees, he watched helplessly as Westmoreland was spotted, dead and helpless on the ground. Then lastly, he felt his heart stop dead in his chest, when he looked up at him, horror and pain twisting his features, Lincoln was quickly detained by a buised and battered Bellick. Forced on his knees and onto the ground.

The sirans rang loudly, as gaurd dogs barked. Echoing off the concrete stone walls. Micheal watched as gaurds ran across the fields, guns in hand, dog-collar in the other. Police were beginning to respond and breaking out around the stone barracade, surrounding there positions. But he hasn't been spotted yet, he hasn't even been noticed. Micheal couldn't leave his brother behind, he was going to get killed. The escape was a failure, he understands, he debated on allowing himself to get caught. He didn't want to lose his brother, all of his work would have been for nothing.

Police and gaurds alike were shouting orders into thier walkie-talkies, scrambling around trying to find any loose runners that may have escaped and were in hiding. They were missing eight Inmates, but in the commotion they didn't bother counting, little did they know that they only had six.

"Pretty, We have to go." T-bag's voice sounded desperate, trying to force Micheal out of his daze. "It's too late for them,"

"No!" Micheal shouted, "There has to be another way."

"Yeah, get caught an' put in the SHU, Be realistic, let's _go!"_ T-Bag gripped Micheals shoulder roughly, pulling him off the barbed wall with him. Micheal gave the building one last look, his eyes shooting into the window where Lincoln softly mouthed _go_, turning away he was lead out of the room along with the rest of the furious terrified inmates, before Micheal reluctantly followed the child murderer. He'd be back for his brother, he was going to come back.

Officer Bellick glared at the inmates, sick to his stomach. How dare these little degenerates attack him like that? He was the top dog of the pact, and these filthy pups were nothing but dirt under his feet. His eyes were wondering, looking for that bastard T-Bag, the little imbred prick was going to pay. He didn't see him, confused he looked back and saw that the inmates were pilling out, and just figured that he had already been taken out, shurgging he'd deal with him later. Allowing his eyes to wonder the room, the window was in peices, and ripped from it's propper place. Silently wondering how they were able to do it.

Then his eyes wondered downward, where Westmoreland was resting. Bellick felt sick at the sight of the man, "Get him on his feet." He rasped at a gaurd, "I can't sir, I don't think he's breathing."

"What do you mean you don't think he's breath'n?" Bellick looked at the pasty blooded form on the ground. He wasn't moving.

"Oh god." The captain breathed, He wasn't sure if he should be disgusted or upset about the cons untimely death. Instead he did what was easier, turning away from the mess of a body, he mumbled for the cop to take care of it. The gaurd nodded in understanding, turning his attention to a few other informants, gesturing his head, they nodded and walked over to the elders body. Bellick looked away and examined the window once again, letting his gaze go across to the bording wall, empty, just like it always was. Smiling inwardly, he'd stopped the escape.

Turning away, he left the room, after C-Note was pulled out. These imbiciles were going to the SHU, and another 20 years under their belt. Snickering, he grabbed his Walkie-Talkie, his voice proud. "Give count," He ordered, he got a static response "Yes, sir."

Bellick nodded, though he knew that the gaurd couldn't see him, ignoring the move he walked around the mess and made his way down to the main cells in B-Wing.

Micheal ran beside T-Bag, moving swiftly through the tree's and trying desperately not to get caught, tripping on his feet, it was T-Bag who stopped. Micheal could see the debating behind his eyes in that single moment, where the man didn't know whether to leave him there to get caught, or help him up. Only a split second of hesitation before he reached down and pulled the pale man to his feet. "Come'n Pretty, no lolli gaggi'n." T-Bag mummbled under his breath.

Micheal nodded and they began running again, dodging away from tree limbs and zipping through the fallen leaves until a clearing came into view. Abruzzi's plane. Hope swelled up in Micheal as he neared the device, but drained just as quickly as it came when the buzz of the motor went off. They were leaving, T-Bag got the hint just as quickly. "HEY!" He shouted waving his hands in the air as they neared the air craft. But they just didn't see them, they didn't stop moving either, taking off just as soon as the two inmates got into view, but the poilet noticed too late, already in the air and off before he could stop the craft. Yet instead of going back he continued onward, much to the con's displeasure.

"Whad'a we do now?" T-Bag asked, his voice breathless, tired. "We keep running." Micheal answered, patting the serial killers back once to motion him around. They left without another word, heading back into the tree's, Micheal knew of a van nearby, him and the killer could escape easily in it as a second plan. It was either Haywire or Tweener that told him, but he trusted their word enough to go searching for it. Helicoptors flew threw the skies, the sound of dogs barking and howling in the distance, along with the prison's sirans and police car wailing filled the air as they quickly made themselves dissapear.

Bellick stood above the exsasperated Wardin, he was furious and demanding to see Scofield, he wanted to have a word with the man. Bellick reassured him that he would get the chance once they finish protocall. Reluctantly the Wardin agreed, he knew better than to allow his emotions get the better of him. A gaurd walked in, his face slightly scared, and over all angered, spoke up. "Sir, were missing two inmates."

Bellick whipped his head around so fast he was slightly surprized he didn't snap it off. "That's not possible." He rasped angerly. "Who escaped?"

"We don't know yet sir." He answered. "The inmates arn't talking."

"Then make them talk." Bellick demanded harshly, "Nobody escapes my prison, not under my supervison."

The static on the one gaurds Walkie-Talkie blured for a moment, before an electronic sounding voice spoke up. "We're missing Theodore Baggwell."

"What?" Bellick yanked off the communication device off of the cop's vest. "This is your captain speaking, what about T-Bag?"

The other end hesitated slightly before answering to his superior. "Theodore Baggwell is missing, sir." Anger swelled up in the already furious Captain, before taking a breath. He pressed the button again, "Who else is missing?"

"Uh.. A Micheal Scofield."

The Wardin didn't have to ask what was going on, already having heard the conversation. Shouting curses he flew his chair across the room, leaving through the door in a violent fit. Heading towards the unexpecting inmates, he was going to make them talk. One way or another.

T-Bag was the first to spot the van, waving Micheal to see for himself. "Right 'ver there." Jogging briskly to the motor vehical. Micheal searched for the keys, after a few moments of looking, T-Bag stepped out with them jiggling in his clutches; smirking before tossing them to the younger male, who caught them and moved to the driver's seat. Unlocking the doors he slid into his chair, slamming his door beside him. T-Bag entered, following suit, climbing into the passenger seat; he layed back. The smell of weed, tobacco and sweat filled the overly used car, starting the ingion the car sputtered before a soft consistant humming noice erupted from the back. Pressing his foot on the gas, the van advanced forward, the two of them getting away from it all.

**Chapter 1 complete. {I know I need to work on my other storys.. -.- I'm working on it.] I love T-Bag x Micheal Scofield. There isn't enough in the gallerys, so I'm making one. Fluff in later chapters, and yes I left Lincoln behind, shoot me. Anywho, I hope you like, things will go into your favor you Lincoln burrow fans :D Secondly If there are any misspellings and grammatical errors, please let me know. Again this isn't my normal computer that I use, and it doesn't warn me if there is something wrong with a sentance or a word, I will proof read ahead of time, but I want to know if there was in fact something I missed. Thank you! Reviews and constructive critisism are welcome! :D Next chapter will be longer, promise! Right now I'm just getting you people into the swing of things. Anywho, hope you enjoyed :3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Characters do not belong to me! Enjoy :D**

The drive was painfully quite, the air felt stiff and tense. T-Bag turned his attention from the life that surrounded him as it zipped past him in a blurr, to Scofield, who sat in the driver's seat. His face was emotionless, but he could see past the mask, he saw the thinking, how the wheel's turned in the males head, he saw the contemplation, the reasoning, the planning, he also saw the pain, the guilt, shame. T-Bag knew the only reason he did any of this was for his brother, and ended up leaving with out him. That wasn't part of the plan, it never was and he knew it, Scofield had been so confident about his plan he didn't think of the possible negitive outcome, and what were to happen if he failed.

"Pretty, I.."

"Don't" Micheal interupted, his voice was harsh and hard. That _No Bullshit _tone he used on the inmates quiet often. T-Bag knew it wasn't his place, but he didn't really care, it had to be said. "I know that Sink was y'er brother an' all, but your effort's were futile." T-Bag watched the anger spread over the mans face, but continued none the less, "All I'm sayin' Pretty, is that Burrows should 'ave gone first." Micheal looked ready to snap at him, but bit his tongue, there was nothing he could say. He was right, Lincoln should have left first, before himself. He would have been free and it didn't matter if Micheal got caught, as long as his brother got to breathe for one more day.

_"Micheal," Lincoln looked tired behind the glass, the wear painfully obvious behind those pale eyes. Micheal could feel his voice get caught up in his throat, he wasn't sure what to say, and even if he did say something, he was afriad his voice would come out weak. So instead, he nodded. Lincoln smiled, and understanding big brother smile that only he could pull off, the one thats been through hell and back, and can still hold it's posture._

T-Bag said nothing after that, feeling he'd said enough. What more could he say? The man was about to lose the last of his family, or the family he was aware of. He never cared to get into Micheals personal life, it wasn't something that interested him much, sighing he turned his head away from the lost man, and letting his eyes drift outside of the van. Tree's zipped past in a fast mannor, shades of blues and green's blurred from his visions, with the shades of grey shifting from the serial killers eyes like dancing shadows. Soft and set, skimming back and forth in a mash of moves, branches connecting in a stiff flow of movements.

T-Bag layed his head against the seat, allowing the feedom to devour his sense's, to feel at ease resting in a vehical for the first time in years. The thrill of escaping succsesfully was getting to him, his heart was pumping and his blood was rushing. He couldn't contain his smile as they drove further down the road, he watched as the choppers were heading in the wrong direction, and the sound of sirans began to fade off into the distance. That incredible feeling that was filling his gut was becoming more and more undeniably pleasant, making him slightly jumpy. He was out, he was finally out.

_"Lincoln.." his name was slightly whimpered out by the younger sibling, he was going to lose his older brother. He was about to lose all he had anymore, and he knew there wasn't a thing he could do about it, all the evidence pointed to him, all the evidence showed that he was guilty. Although Micheal couldn't see it, he knew his brother had done terrible things, but he wasn't capable of murder, he wasn't capable of something so digustingly terrible. Lincoln may not have been a great man, but the guy had morals._

_Micheal heard an audible sigh from his brother, "Give me your hand." He whispered, putting his hand above the glass. He placed his fingers through the wiring, Micheal looked momentarily confused, "Just give me your hand." Lincoln said again, and without any hesitation the younger brother moved his hand up to touch his brothers, he wanted to break down in tears, but knew better than to act weak in front of Lincoln, he taught him to be strong._

Alive, T-Bag felt alive, the world looked more captivating than it did the last time he was out, when he was a free man. A time before his beloved Suzie Q turned him in, she treated him like a monster. He pleaded to her, he would have never touched her kids, he would have never touched her. The bitch wouldn't listen to him, he thought of her lovely face but couldn't stop himself from being slightly disgusted, she didn't trust him, and blamed him for what he grew up to be. It wasn't his fault how he was raised, it wasn't his fault. His mood dampened thinking about the woman, he loved her, he loved her so much and she just tossed him away like he didn't prove his worth to her. Like he didn't try.

T-Bag turned his attention to Micheal, his eyes on the road, but his attention elsewhere. "Scofield?" He questioned, but didn't get an answer, he felt tempted to wave his hand infront of the mans face to get him back to planet earth. He knew it was a stupid idea, but it was one none the less, he didn't want the man to smack him if he tried nudging him. Micheal looked so deep in thought, T-Bag saw that expression before on his face, it's the one he wore when he found out that Lincoln was thrown in the SHU. Same face he wore when T-Bag found out about the hole, the one of stress, mild discomfort, and shock. Something he didn't see Pretty wear too often but had seen on occations.

_"It's okay.." Lincoln tried to console, but Micheal wasn't getting the message. "Hey.. It's okay Micheal.."_

_"Do you remember, when mom died." Micheal started, clinging to the metal wires above him, Lincoln nodded "Yeah, I remember."_

_"Do you remember the last thing she said to us?"_

_"What does that have to do with anything?"_

_"Just answer the question." Micheal looked up at his older brother, his stare hard and desperate. "Do you remember?" Lincoln shook his head, "I don't."_

"Did you know, that Valentines day was originally a celebration for an exacution of a serial killer." T-Bag was bored, Micheal wasn't responding to a thing he said, he coudn't tell if he was purposely ignoring him. He knew that man regretting bringing him along, and would rather have Link the Sink in his place, but T-Bag thought nothing of it, holding up a one-man conversation, trying to get a rise out of the younger man.

"An ol' friend of mine, told me 'bout the people the man killed, last name was Valentine or somethi'n.. Anywho, he was exicuted on February 14'th an' all, 'Bout hundred years later, 'nother guy with the same killin' type was caught and exicuted on the same day. Somewhere 'round the line it was made 'nto a day of love, never understood why." His southern accent flew off his tongue, resting against his fist as his elbow rested on the rest of the door. Eyes scanning the seanery, sighing he cracked his neck.

"I got me 'nother fact for ya." Crossing his legs in a near feminane mannor, "The character Leatherface, from that cult classic movie, um.." The killer thought for a moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre I think.. Anywho, the guy's based off that ther' sicko Ed Gien, som' psycho wanna be tranny."

"He was mentally unstable," Micheal finally spoke up. His eyes looking over at T-Bag before resting on the road again.

"So you 'ave been listenin'?" T-Bag smirked, crossing his arms above his chest.

"Somewhat," Micheal turned into incoming traffic far off from where all the action was taking place behind them, the police were looking for runners, not cons in a car. They had time before their travaling arragements were discovered. They had to find some place to stay for the night, a place where the police wouldn't suspect. Micheal had an idea, the police are going to be looking farther away from where the prison really was, not at a nearby hotel. Micheal knew of one near by, the owner was a con and often helped run-a-ways, he didn't ask questions, and wasn't one who could be bribed by money. Micheal remembered looking him up, talking to people near by about him when he was researching get-a-way tactics. From what he heard, the guy was legitimet, he won't tell the cops anything, he wouldn't be bought out. He was highly respected around the area he resided in, and even though Micheal never met the guy, he trusted what he heard far enough to head in the mans direction.

_"You can't quit until you try, You can't live until you die.."_

_"You can't learn the truth, until you learn to lie," Lincoln chimed in, "Yeah.. It was a poem she used to recite to us before we went to bed, I remember now." Micheal gave a weak smile, "Well?"_

_"Well what?" Lincoln asked, raising a brow._

_"Do you think she was right?"_

_Lincoln looked at him confused for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah." he breathed "Yeah I think she was right. Why are you bringing it up?"_

"You seem distant, Pretty. Is ther' somethin' you wanna talk 'bout?" The con leaned forward in his seat, "Somethin' you wanna get off that pretty lil' chest of y'urs?"

"No." Micheal answered, taking a left off the innersection, the sound of gravel under their wheels moved the two men back and forth in their seats. He was getting closer to the Hotel, it wasn't too far from where they were currently, just another mile and a half they'll be pulling up to the parking lot. There was a steady silence in the van for a good while, Theodore was beginning to feel slightly edgy, not exsactly sure where they were heading. He wasn't going to admit if he felt slightly anxious about the entire ordeal, he didn't know if Micheal wanted to turn them in, and just wanted to lead the con into a false sense of security. He didn't know what he'd do if he got sent back to that hell hole.

The rest of their ride was spent in silence as the two stared off, lost in their own little worlds and thinking about this, that and the other. Most of them were conserns about one another, T-Bag didn't know if he could trust Micheal and debated on several occations during the drive if he should turn against him and force him out of the car, or kill him. He didn't know what was holding him back, Micheal was one fine peice of meat, and who was T-Bag to waste such a beautiful creature of skin like him? No, it'd be a waste of time and allies, he didn't know if he'd need Micheal later on, and decided against killing him. He might come in handy in the future.

Micheal felt somewhat the same way towards Theodore, He knew he couldn't trust the man, but that stunt he pulled back in the forest when he tripped over his feet made him doubt that. T-Bag could have easily left him there to get caught, he could have ran off without even pausing, but instead he pulled him to his feet and ran beside him, he wasn't sure what the man was up to, but he wasn't sure if he cared enough. He knew he had to figure out a way to save his brother, T-Bag was the least of his worrys at the moment.

Pulling into the lot, he turned off the ingion and jumped out, T-Bag looked at him curiously before stepping out himself. They slammed the car doors shut behind themselves, T-Bag got next to Micheal and followed the man into the building, "What are we doin' Pretty?" He asked, genuinly curious. "Don't ask questions, just trust me."

"I'm not sayin' I don't, but don'tcha think it's a bit early to be seen in public, eh?" Micheal grabbed the door and pulled it open, turning his eyes towards T-Bag, his face illuminated in the building's light. "Just trust me." It was more of a demand than a request, before he stepped inside. T-Bag shrugged, looking over his shoulder, the land was dark, car's driving by and minding their own buisness, the lights illuminating the dark roads. The man turned back around and entered the building, before closing the door behind him. Pretty better know what he's doing.

_"She always told us things, she was always there for us until she died."_

_"Yeah," Lincoln frowned, "But that still doesn't answer my question."_

_Micheal was silent, contemplating what he should say next, he wasn't sure. For once in his life he wasn't sure what to do, or what to think, what to believe. The legal system was never wrong, but they must have overlooked something, they must have done something wrong. Lincoln took the silence as a bad sign, and sighed. "Micheal.." Micheal stared at the ground, he didn't look up at the older male. "Micheal, answer me."_

_"I'm listening." He muttered, glancing up at at his older brother._

_"I want you to promise me something." Micheal nodded, "I want you to get out of your state of mind, I want you, for one moment, to think outside of what the government is telling you, I want you to believe your insticts. I want you to open your eyes to the lies around you." Lincoln began, "I want you to do one last thing for me, after I die."_

_"And what's that?" Micheal asked, He could feel the tears stinging at his eyes again, and it took all his will power to keep the warm liquid from falling down his face._

_"Swear on your life." Lincoln stared at him sternly, the man sighed, looking up at their hands and frowning, before letting his eyes fall on his brother, "I want you to promise me, that you won't cry at my funeral."_

_"No." Micheal glared at him, taking his hand away from his brother, standing up. "Micheal, promise me."_

_"I told you no." Fixing his jacket he turned to leave, Lincoln stood up. "Why not?" He demanded, the gaurd coming into his cage to take him back to his cell._

_"Because Link," He looked over his shoulder, watching the gaurd take Lincoln by the arms, getting ready to lead him away. "Their won't be a funeral."_

_"What?" Lincoln looked terribly confused, "What do you mean there won't be a funeral?" He shouted, "Come on Link," The gaurd urged, pulling him away. "Micheal! Answer me!"_

_Micheal softly smiled at him, "Just have a little faith." He shouted back, before he turned and left the premisses._

The air inside of the building was cool, compared to the terrible heat that night. Micheal walked up to the desk where an older man sat, a book in one hand and a ciggerette in the other. He raised his eyes up at the two convicts and smiled, standing up from his seat. "Thompson right? and Smith?" The older gentleman asked.

"Yeah, that's us." Micheal answered, giving a small smile to the older man. "I was beginning to wonder when you two were gonna show, I've been hearin the Siran's from Fox River go off for 'bout an hour now."

"Yeah, I Apologize for that," Micheal smirked, getting the older male to chuckle, "No need, your room is 19B on the far side of the complex." The man reached into a drawer, pulling out a key and handing it to Micheal, "Have a nice night, ya hear?" Micheal nodded, before turning around, he grabbed T-Bags shoulder and lead them out of the office and to the room they were going to be staying in. "Thompson and Smith? Apologizing for the sirans?" T-Bag spoke up, "Who was that guy anyhow?"

"A guy who know's what we are, and doesn't care, one of the very few." He answered, stepping up to the door before sticking the key into the lock, turning it and pushing open the heavy thing. Stepping inside he flipped on the light, T-Bag stepped in right after, closing the door and locking it, the room was air conditioned and wasn't that terribly kept. The room contained a single bed, which was going to be a problem, a lamp post, a chair in the far off corner, an old Television, and a door on the far side of the room that was perhaps the restroom. The place wasn't that bad, but looked cheap, though niether man complained.

"Smith was supposed to be Lincoln, huh?"

"Well now it's you." Micheal responded, sitting down on the bed. "I'm Edward Thompson, a secretary who works for a low cut company on the border of Miami, and _you," _Micheal reached under the bed and pulled out a box, setting it beside him, he opened it. "Are Albert Smith, a writer who never made it big." Micheal smirked, pulling out some passports and paper work. "Though I may have to change your picture." T-Bag stepped over to the pale man, grabbing the information, under Albert Smith was a photogragh of Lincoln, he handed back the passport to Micheal who tucked the stuff away. "What are you going to do 'bout the exicution?"

"Just have some faith in me, I'm going to stop that exicution, one way or another." Micheal closed the box, placing it under the bed. "Tomorrow, me and you are going to have to take a trip to a nearby cemetary." Micheal commented, laying down on the bed, his arms rested comfortably behind his head, "Thiers something there we need to pick up."

"Why are you keepin me along, Pretty?" T-Bag heard himself asking, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What's the purpose of addin' me along with your lil cherade?"

"I'm going to need you." Micheal answered truthfully, "Besides, sticking with me keep's you out of the police's reach, If I were you I wouldn't complain."

T-Bag raised his hands in mock surrender. "Whatever you say." Lowering his hands he looked at the bed, "Now, 'bout the sleepin' arangements.."

"If you don't touch me you can sleep on the bed, but If I feel you, your sleeping on the floor." Micheal's face was expressionless, but his voice held no room for arugument. T-Bag nodded, no matter how tempting it would be to just reach over and feel the soft lookin' skin Pretty had, how nice it would be to have him whitherin' under him, he knew better not to push his limits. Crawling over to the other side of the bed, he kicked off his shoes, laying down. Micheal did the same, before reaching up and clicking off the light.

**Chapter 2 is up :D Much longer than the last chapter like I promised :3 Fluff's coming your way and what-not. I do hope your enjoying so far. Thank's for reading, and Reviews as well as contructive critismism are welcome!**


End file.
